Dreams
by HolyMoly
Summary: "I reluctantly closed my eyes; tomorrow i was about to risk it all. My reputation, the future of the Glee club and most of all the love of my life." Journey through the dreams of Santana Lopez as she comes to terms with her feelings - BRITTANA with a bang
1. New York

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, if i did the season 2 finale would have featured a whole lot more of Brittana hence i've made this version of the events to simply satisfy my needs as well as those of all you other Brittana fans out there!**

**Note: Takes place during S2E22 New York from Santana's point of view. Please bear with me if you think this story is a bit slow to start i promise the dream sequences in the chapters to come are going to be filled with allegorical, abstract goodness and references to all the best episodes (in my opinion) of Glee. There is even going to be appearances of everyone's favourite substitute Holly Holiday and the return of the infamous GaGa outfits! So rate and review if your interested in reading on ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

**New York: The city of dreams**

It's barely been five minutes since Mr Schue left us on lock down and I'm already struggling to keep the look of explicit boredom off my face. The fact of the matter was I already had a kick-ass song written but I wasn't about to share that with this bunch of losers, especially as the object of it was currently mooning over cripple boy on the opposite side of the room.

And this song wasn't bitchy and superficial like 'Trouty Mouth' – it was real and meaningful. I suppose this major attitude makeover started with Mr Schue's advice when we were clearly struggling to write original songs for regional's: _the greatest songs are about hurt and that's the side of yourself I want you to get in touch with._I'm usually too distracted by his expansive collection of vest sweaters to pay attention to his inspirational pep-talks but this time his words really tugged at my heart strings. I was consumed with hurt and pain; I still am.

Truth is I miss my best friend. Sure, Britts and I are on better terms now but it's not the same between us and never will be – I made sure of that. Its incredible how 3 tiny, monosyllable words can change the dynamics of two people lives forever. I'm not just talking about emotionally – the only time I used to cry was from the feeling of complete fulfilment after demolishing an entire wheelbarrow of 'sticks yet now I cry almost every day – but also psychologically. Not only have I lost a friend but I've also lost myself. I don't know who I am anymore. I used to look in the mirror with love and admiration but now all I feel is hatred and confusion. The more I think about it the more it hurts, so I've just stopped thinking about it, stopped questioning and stopped loving Brittany… well I'm trying.

So that's where I find myself now, in the familiar place of trying to distract my mind and pass the time the best way I know how - by thinking up insults: this time in advance for the mayor of Hobbiton and Puffy Pecs' tragic song ideas, when I'm suddenly broken from my illusions by the sound of_ her_ voice…

_In the middle of the night I'm in bed alone, don't care if you glass, paper, Styrofoam... _

Brittany has the biggest smile on her innocent face as she continues to sing about a cup with all the seriousness of a news reporter declaring there has been an outbreak of radioactive bunnies – come to think of it that sounds like something Britt might have actually mentioned on that ridiculous talkshow of hers _Fondue for two._

I feel an all too familiar grin begin to creep upon my tanned features – Brittany always knew how to touch my heart when no one else had ever cared to realise I had one underneath the bad-ass front I so carefully hid behind.

_When I need some water babyyy, coffee or gi-iin…_

I hastily cover my mouth to stifle an incontrollable bout of laughter, my eyes never leaving the blonde for a moment. Some say that a persons eyes are a portal into their soul. I wouldn't be caught dead spouting off such mushy nonsense, I think I overheard it in a conversation between Rachel and Finn – her eyes boring into his in that creepy-intense-stalker manner as she clutched at what I could only assume was another cliché artefact of their love, most likely to replace those vulgar cat calendars. But the fact is I can't help but admit this is the case with my Britt's; sitting here now lost in the oceans of her swirling blue gaze I can almost feel the world from her perspective – a perspective so pure and true that it hurt.

All of a sudden a feeling of guilt arises and I uncomfortably avert my eyes as I remember I am unworthy to be the object of such painstaking honesty when I am literally living a lie. The old defence mechanism kicks in to block out any complicated emotions as I mentally scold myself. _You're in the city of dreams for Christ sakes, surrounded by sights you could never imagine coming from that waste- of- space town of Lima Heights and all you can think about is looking into her blue eyes? Get it together S. _

_What's up, what's up, sayin what's up to my cup – paaah _

Brittany finishes with the eager excitement of a puppy seeking approval as we all stare at her with a universal look of bewilderment until Tina manages to stammer "Hold on, are you singing about a cup?"

Brittany smiles dreamily, "well yeah totally" she replies nonchalantly.

Quinn stands up brashly; reaching for her jacket as she announces that there is no way she is staying in this dull hotel room when just outside is a world teeming with inspiration. As much as I hate to agree with Preggo Fabray she has a point – I for one could not wait to be in the fresh air away from a certain someone who seemed to be always stealing it away from me as of late.

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><p>I soon broke away unnoticed from the rest of the glee kids, which wasn't hard as everyone, particularly Rachel, was caught up in the trance of the glamour and glitz of Broadway. I must admit even I was taken aback. I stared in awe at the marquees of famous faces and names in lights and thought to myself <em>I<em> _gots to get me some of this one day_. I carried on walking until I reached a secluded area away from the noise of the main street which was now abuzz with the chaos of afternoon traffic and pedestrian footfall. I am just about to rest my legs on a nearby bench under the peaceful shade of a group of trees when a voice speaks cheerily into my ear, "Hey San!"

Of course Brittany had known how to find me.

She has this incredible talent of knowing my thoughts better than I did so I was sure she could also sense the undertone of disappointment in my voice when I reply, "Oh, hey Britt-Britt".

We sat beside each other awkwardly, the tension between us heightened by the silence of our surroundings; the only sound being that of the whirring breeze and the rustle of leaves. However Brittany didn't seem to take any notice as she immediately struck up a conversation, the hint of a confused frown etched on her face as was often the case.

"New York is great isn't it? But why is it called Manhattan, isn't that sexist? And I don't see any hat shops around here…" She pondered perplexed, straightening the hat on her own head which I now realised she had probably thought was a customary outfit choice for this city.

I smirked and began to formulate a sarcastic reply but was cut off by further questioning: "…and I thought Alicia Keys said this place was a jungle so I brought my binoculars especially for looking at the animals but there doesn't seem to be any!" she declared with a disappointed pout on her face.

This final comment proved too much for my resolve to bear and I found myself breaking into a fit of giggles with a massive grin on my face, the kind that only Brittany can elicit. "No Britts that's a metaphor sweetie. It's called a concrete jungle because of all the buildings".

I was used to having to correct such Brittany-isms, most people made fun of her because of them but to me they were the most beautiful thing about her.

"Oh I see…" she replied smiling back. My breath hitched in my throat as we stayed like that for a moment; engrossed in each other and oblivious to the world."It's nice to see you smile again" Brittany stated plainly, catching me off guard."What, I'm always smiling, why wouldn't I be? Life is great, Puck and I are happy together in one of the most romantic cities in the world. Hell right now I have enough optimism to cure Arties legs of paralysis!"

Brittany seems unfazed and unconvinced by my lie, "Sure I see you smiling but it's not often that I can see happiness dancing in your eyes like now…" I gulp. "And that makes me sad as if feel like it's my fault. It feels like I've been losing you…" Brittany whispered looking down. She looked so vulnerable in that moment that I want nothing more than to take her in my arms and tell her that I was forever hers but that familiar voice in my head stopped me – _She rejected you. She doesn't want you. _

"It scares me you know, I would be completely lost without you and I don't just mean because I wouldn't be able to find the way to my classes…" She continued still looking down. "You could never lose me" I reply fiercely grabbing her hand so that our pinkies join to form the trademark symbol of friendship as if to reinforce my words. At that she brightened up, the glare of her smile warming my face like the rays of sun that fell upon us, splayed through the gaps in the branches above our heads.

I look down at our attached digits fondly, remembering the day we became best friends.

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><p>It was my first day at Mckinley High and even then I struck fear into the hearts of innocent bystanders who as of yet didn't know my name. <em>Not for long<em> I thought with a smirk as I signed my name up for Cheerio tryouts, disinterested with the trail of destruction I had left of the queue behind me – "In Lima Heights Adjacent we don't queue", my vicious words echoed as I pushed my way to the front. A lump in my throat formed as I was struck by my own cruelty – 'No, don't feel sorry for anyone' I reminded myself. This is your shot, a chance to _be someone_. All I had to do was become head Cheerio and then I would rule this school, no more being second place: Santana Lopez wasn't going to play nice any longer.

This act of confidence began to vanish rapidly however as I tried to control my quivering legs as I made what seemed like a never ending journey to the centre of the school's football field. I didn't quite know my way around yet but it wasn't hard to find my way to the tryouts, all I had to do was follow the screeching voice of Coach Sylvester: "What do you call that? Even my spineless mother could pull off a double back handspring and land with more stability than you" she spat coldly. "The way your limbs are shaking like jelly is quite frankly disgusting; no one wants to see your rippling cellulite…and what are you looking at tubby? Finally got your attention by the mention of food have I?" She was a woman possessed, unable to withhold a fiery rage fuelled from years of ambition and bitterness from escaping. "You're all unworthy of being in a squad coached by my level of prestige and talent. Those of you who have been personally hand picked by me, welcome to the family and those of you that haven't, take a hike!"

The end of her rant was followed by a groan from everyone, particularly those 'lucky' enough to have been chosen. Sue Sylvester in the flesh lived up to her reputation of tyranny and menace and to be honest I fucking respected her for that. _I can learn a lot from this woman _I thought dryly as I approached the beasts back, which was still rising and falling in a seething anger. My outstretched hand gingerly tapped her shoulder and she whipped around in surprise at the contact – no one dared touch Sue Sylvester.

I took this moment of shocked silence to my advantage and boldly stated: "My name's Santana Lopez, your new head cheerleader." A small chuckle escaped the Coach's lips as she marvelled at the cockiness of me - the slight, dark haired Hispanic girl stood before her.

After looking me up and down Sue Sylvester replied smugly, "Sorry J-Lo as much as I appreciate you finally gracing the rest of us with your presence tryouts are over." She had turned away and began to walk over to the now snickering group of cheerleaders when I blocked her path – I wasn't about to be intimidated that easily.

"Please Coach, give me a chance." The plea rolled of my tongue awkwardly – I was used to demanding what I wanted not asking for it. More stunned silence ensued as Sue Sylvester stared at me, perhaps in that moment she saw something of herself in the gaze of my steely brown eyes or maybe she was simply annoyed with my pestering but eventually one syllable broke through the silence and reignited my hope: "fine."

"Looks like you've now got yourself some competition Quinn" she laughed in the direction of one particularly pissed off looking individual. She was a perfect image of the American sweetheart; with glistening pale skin and luscious blonde hair that curled around her strikingly beautiful features.

I winked at her devilishly as I made my way over to the rest of the bewildered group, glad to put little miss prissy prom queen in her place. But before I could relax though or even begin to introduce myself (by which I mean assert my authority) to the others Sue had already begun declaring our conditions: Quinn and I were to position ourselves at the top of a pyramid, whoever held their place the longest would be christened head cheerleader - _Easy_. Or so I thought.

Once on top of the pyramid I finally felt at the top of the social hierarchy, I suppose I literally was. It was somewhere I had always longed to be, the chance of escaping life as an outsider was finally within my grasp. But with a longing so deep also comes pressure – and it hit me hard.

Hard enough to make me momentarily lose my balance. One quiver was all it took and I was crashing down beside my hopes and dreams. _Well I'll be damned_. I hated to lose at the best of times but this was personal. I had barely made contact with the floor when I was already beginning to spring back up, ready to wipe the smirk of success off that Fabray chick's face Latina style when I was knocked to the ground once more.

My vision was obscured by a mass of golden hair which muffled my trademark outburst of Spanish curses, a sure sign that I had lost it. I was preparing to throw the cheerleader off of me and berate her for nearly breaking my spine when her blue eyes met mine.

In that second her gaze pierced through my harsh exterior; all those walls that took a lifetime to build came tumbling down like the pyramid we were just a part of. I forgot about my anger, humiliation and disappointment. In fact the whole idea of becoming head cheerleader seemed suddenly stupid to me. All that I was aware of was the position of her hands beside my head pinning me to the ground; the feel of soft skin against mine…

"Hi my name is Brittany" the blonde giggled as she rose up with me in tow; one arm grasping her shoulder the other clasped at her hand until it became delicately attached to her pinkie. It's been that way ever since.

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><p>"You have chocolate on your nose" Brittany giggled, tenderly wiping it clean with the palm of her hand. Her face lingered close to mine so that when I breathed in I inhaled the smell of her sweet perfume and strawberry scented lip smackers, a blush flushing my cheeks as I quickly glance away.I self consciously cough and mutter a hoarse "thanks" under my breath.<p>

We had just bought ice creams and rejoined the others who were beginning to panic due to Rachel's constant warnings that 'if we didn't get back soon not only would we not have a song for nationals but we would also be disqualified for disobeying Mr Schue's orders.' The group reluctantly agreed to head back, if only to silence the drama queen's nagging.

Brittany had worked her way to the front and was now pushing Artie with a light-hearted bounce in her step. I suddenly felt sick. I lingered at the back, my eyes narrowing into a scowl which Quinn seemed to notice.

"What's up with you sour puss? You've been acting off ever since we got here" she stated, a hint of worry evident behind the mockery in her soft voice. I continued to scowl, "Your concern is touching Q but if you're worrying that my mood is going to ruin our chances at winning this competition there's no need. I'm fine, more than fine in fact as my smoking voice is the best we have. I'm just slightly tired from the flight and annoyed that I left my manicure set on the plane – my nails currently look worse than Manhand's."

I cock my head up confidently, pleased with my lie which seemed to have been convincing enough as Quinn dropped the subject if not slightly reluctantly.

We continued to walk side by side in companionable silence until we reached the hotel where Rachel practically flew up the stairs and began ordering everyone about, throwing paper and pens at everyone the second we arrived back at our room. I tossed mine and her feet not even bothering to hide my discontent as I strutted my way to sit in a corner alone.

I had shut my eyes and crossed my arms about rest my head against the wall when I was disturbed by a towering presence above me, their shadow disrupting the light of the room.

"What do you want Zizes" I say coldly. "Hey I know we haven't always seen eye to eye but aside from me you're the only bad- ass in this joint so are you in or not?" This question confused me until I saw that Lauren had opened her hand to reveal a miniature bottle of liquor.

"But where did you…" I began but she interrupted me. "Puck and I smuggled some from the bar earlier" Lauren replied smugly with an evil grin on her face. I laughed taking the bottle from her - _this is going to be great_ I thought. "All we have to do is pass these around and make sure Rachel doesn't find out."

I glance over my shoulder, Rachel was hunched over her desk so far that she was in danger of actually becoming part of it, her furious scribbling dangerously close to igniting the page. "Not a problem" I reply with a chuckle.

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><p>Within an hour our plan was well underway and the mood in the room seemed to have lifted considerably with everyone laughing and gossiping. Under the effects of alcohol I no longer felt trapped – <em>I can breath. <em>I stood up on the bed and stretched my arms like a bird feeling freedom for the first time when I felt a sudden blow to my side – the contact of the pillow with my body spraying a tuft of feathers into the air.

My blonde attacker giggled and continued to swing at me until I was backed into a corner defenceless. _I was always defenceless around Brittany._

The others seemed to catch on to the pillow fight and joined in, the sound of screeching and scuffling muffling out the buzzing noise of Rachel's phone, which she looked at and then left the room. I was about to make a comment about how hypocritical this was of her considering her earlier protests against 'rule-breaking' when I am hit square in the face. That did it. I launched myself at Brittany, my hands closing around her waist clinging to her as we both fall on to the mattress.

I land on top of her, my legs straddling her hips; the proximity of our bodies causes my heart to race and my breaths to escape me in ragged gasps. I lean closer so that my dangling hair brushes her face, my body flat against hers. "Now what are you going to do" I whisper tauntingly in her ear unable to control myself, the feel of my breath on her neck making her shudder.

The pillow fight was still raging around us but all I was aware of was how the sound of our beating hearts pounded in my ears. It was as if a switch had been pushed and all my senses were on overdrive. I bit my lip to restrain a moan from escaping them as Brittany traced her hands along the small of my back tantalisingly slow. Before I became completely enslaved by desire however, my heart dropped at the realisation that this extremely public display of affection might be noticed at any moment.

I hastily removed myself from mine and Brittany's compromising position, pushing my loose hair behind my ears as I did so. I felt myself suddenly sober up in fear of having been caught out however Brittany didn't seem to be aware of anything and now had her eyes shut and was laughing quietly to herself. I stood up shakily and noticed that Quinn was looking at me with a raised eyebrow from across the room. _Shit_. I can feel my cheeks begin to burn as I relieve myself of her gaze and walk across the room, pretending to busy myself with getting ready for the night. I snatch my toothbrush up from my suitcase and practically sprint to the bathroom accidentally slamming the door behind me in my haste. I rest my forehead against the cool glass for a minute, grateful for the soothing effect. _Jesus Christ, what are you doing?_

I must have been in there for a good half an hour, making sure to get changed and remove my make up laboriously slow to give a chance for the excitement outside to have died down when I heard Mercedes banging on the door, complaining for me to quit hogging the bathroom.

"Alright, alright Wheezy keep your weave on" I grumble pushing past her. Thankfully everyone seemed to be packing in for an early night, come to think of it I felt exhausted. I sneak past Quinn eager to avoid her questioning; _I'll deal with it in the morning if I have to but not now._

I reach my bed to find a sleeping Brittany sprawled across it, the alcohol finally having taken its toll. Britts always falls asleep after drinking I smile to myself. Careful not to wake her I gently lift her lanky, toned dancer legs to one side and push her arms against her waist making room for me to fit beside her.

As I lay by her side I pull the quilt over us both, my gaze lingering on her dreaming face, the trace of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. I'm trapped in the centre of a storm of thoughts and emotions but the only one that kept flashing before my mind like lightning was that right here, right now _this feels right. _I sigh scrunching my eyes up in frustration at the situation I had gotten myself in.

I didn't know what to do but in this moment I knew that whatever happened I had to do something, _anything_, I couldn't just ignore it any longer. With one last look at the sleeping beauty beside me I trace my hand along the side of her face before closing my eyes – a troubled sleep taking over.


	2. Dream On

**Disclaimer: Song title and lyrics taken from Aerosmith's - Dream On, lyrics and references to the music video of Melissa Etheridge's – Come To My Window are also used.**

**Note: I'm not even gonna to lie, this was such a challenge to write, there was just so much symbolism and emotion that I really wanted to get down to a T! After hours of drafting though, I'm pleased with the end result but obviously as the author I'm in a rather huge position of personal bias so I would appreciate your comments and feedback more than ever! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

**Dream on**

I slowly tilt my head back, basking in the warmth of the sun and the light sea breeze that brushed against my face… wait, why can I feel a _sea breeze_? I sit up with a jolt, causing the already swaying sailboat that I'm occupying to jerk further back and forth as it now has to battle with the extra force exerted in my panic on top of that of the raging tides.

"What the f…" I begin to exclaim but am cut short by a familiar voice yelling "boom's away!" I immediately try to place this mystery voice and soon recognise it to be that of Holly Holiday – the tone of flamboyancy giving her away.

This preoccupation of my mind along with the fact that I'm a teenage girl from the state of Ohio thus unsurprisingly uneducated in the nautical terms of sailing results in me failing to move out of the way in time to avoid a large pole swinging towards me. It strikes me hard in the chest. I lay winded on the deck, willing that I could be transported away from this bizarre place and my bruised body however after half a minute of silent prayer and wishful thinking I knew that I wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

I open my eyes to a squint to see the substitute teacher come guidance councillor merrily climbing over to my side of the boat. "Ouch, that looked like it hurt!" she said with a massive grin on her face as she held out a hand to help me up.

I instinctively take it, my limbs appearing to move on autopilot from the sheer shock of the past five minute and when I finally manage to open my mouth words tumble out of it in an incoherent jumble: "But why…you…we're – where?" I sigh in frustration and attempt to correct myself – "Miss Holiday where are we?"

"Oh honey I have no idea I was hoping you could tell me" she chuckled. "This can't be happening; I must be dreaming…but even so why would you be here?" I question aloud incredulously adding a hasty "no offence".

"Oh none taken, I just wish I could be more helpful…" she begins sympathetically before continuing as if her train of thought had just been sparked by something she had said. "Wait now that I think of it I do have this strange feeling that I'm here to help you with something…"

I scoff at the idea, "what are you saying, that you're my spiritual guide?"

"Exactly, although I must admit it's rather strange your subconscious choosing me but I mean there has to be some logical reason…maybe it has something to do with our little heart to heart earlier this year?" she probed with a sweet smile on her face that I just wanted to slap off. I tried to ignore her comment and the outburst of butterflies it released in my stomach and instead looked out into the swirling blue ocean, the shifting tides bringing on a wave of nostalgia -

_Can I sail through the changing ocean tides, can I handle the seasons of my life…_

I shake myself; no stop thinking about Brittany, confessing your feelings was a mistake. In fact singing that song was the first stone in the landslide that ended you up here - well not explicitly _here_ as I still had no idea where that was.

"I know you were indecisive about your sexuality before, have you given any more thought into whether or not you think you might be a lesbian?" she continued. Jesus Christ this woman was a broken record.

"Look I'm not gay. So why don't you just take your rainbow flag and wave it in someone else's face because I aints interested." I snap, the irony of my wit only becoming aware to me as a particularly strong gust of wind blew the sail in my direction revealing its pattern of multi-coloured stripes.

I braced myself for possibly being thrown over board as payback for my vicious words but the response that came was surprisingly calm and smug. "Ok but then why are you wearing a shirt that says 'Lebanese'?"

I look down in dread at the familiar black lettering; why hadn't I burned this shirt already? "I'll have you know my English grades are amongst the highest in my year and I can have my parents sue you in a second for insinuating that I misspelled 'lesbian' as that is a serious insult to my intellect." This lie was half true; I mean the stupidity of such a typo still baffled me even for Brittany's standards. "I just so happen to think that Lebanon is a very happening place right now" I finish, jutting my chin out and folding my arms in a gesture that clearly says _I've won_.

"Whatever" she shrugs, clearly not buying my excuse but warded off none the less by my adamant indifference on the matter. I positioned myself on the rim of the boat, suddenly feeling pissed off with everything. I sat so that my legs dangled into the water hoping that the cool waves would ease the fire in my heart that was now steadily seeping across my whole body.

All of a sudden the boat swerved sharply to the left causing me to come dangerously close to being hurled off the edge. I was just about to curse Miss Holiday for her impromptu change of course when something impossible catches my eye.

"No frikin' way" I breath. "That can't be…" I lean perilously further to the edge in order to get a better look at the scene I had just glimpsed in the reflections of the waves we were now heading for. The closer the boat became the more I leaned forward until before I knew it I was falling. I screwed my eyes shut, bracing myself for a chilling collision of the ocean waves with my skin that never came.

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><p>When I thought I had glimpsed the sickly-sweet flowery decor of Brittany's room and the tell tale flash of red and white in the rolling waves I couldn't believe my eyes - or more likely didn't want to believe them. But now here I stand, as if catapulted into my own memories as an observer, watching myself and Brittany lying on her bed getting our sweet lady kisses on.<p>

It was a strange sensation to feel as if reliving something yet totally detached from it at the same time. I could practically feel the warmth of mine and Brittany's bodies across the room but this time round there was an element of coldness in the atmosphere – I realised that it was coming from me.

Well strictly speaking from _her_ – the other Santana that I watched with contempt as she brushed off Brittany's adoration as if it were something as cheap and frivolous one of Rachel Berry's ballad suggestions.

"_I'm not making out with you because I'm in love with you and want to sing about making lady babies. I'm only here because Puck's been in the slammer for about 12 hours now and I'm like a lizard, I need something warm beneath me or I can't digest my food."_

I had always prided myself on protecting Brittany from people that made the sparkle in her eyes dwindle in the presence of hurt; the very look that I was seeing now – the very look that _I _had caused.

No, this heartless robot scraping her hair into a tight ponytail before me was just an aberration, a construct of denial and fear and not the person I want to be. Not the person I am now. Not my heart and soul.

I wanted to shake her, _myself_, and scream for her to realise the pain she was causing not just Brittany but me – the vulnerable wreck that even now could feel the fluid friction of a tear sliding down my cheek.

Before I knew it I was marching towards her instinctively ready to cause this super bitch some super pain for hurting my Britts like that but as I grabbed her shoulders I found myself clutching at air and once again weightless and falling…

* * *

><p>I stumble at the sudden change in material beneath my feet from the soft carpet of Brittany's house to the cold linoleum flooring that lines the corridors of Mckinley High. I seriously needed to get used to this whole jumping through time thing.<p>

I unsteadily make my way up the corridor; legs shaking from a mixture of adrenaline and fear of the ground giving way at any moment. I keep my eyes fixed on my feet, which moved as if of their own accord. It only takes me a moment to realise that they were treading the beaten track down the corridor where my locker was. The locker at which just one month ago I had wore my heart on my sleeve – damn Shakespeare for coming up with that concept. No one should lay their heart on the line like that.

_Everything is better without feelings. _

Despite telling myself this I can't stop feeling the same emotions as the last time I walked this corridor in search of Brittany. I can't stop the rising desire, no _need_, to confess an eternal love like some pathetic character from Disney but this is real life and not everyone gets a happy ending. It's not all bright colours and rounded animations but rather harsh lines and shades of grey.

I halt, once again gripped by an overwhelming fear. _I can't go through with this again. Nothing has changed, she didn't want you then and she doesn't want you now… _

"But don't you want to know for sure?" the voice of Kurt Hummel sounds by my ear causing me to whip around in surprise. There was no one in the corridor. That's strange I could have sworn – "I'm down here silly" a miniature Kurt beams up at me from his position perched on my shoulder.

Perhaps I was getting used to the way this dream stuff worked as I barely flinched at his unusual presence or maybe that was simply because he made such a cute Tinkerbell that it was impossible to be scared.

I was about to ask Kurt what he was doing here when an entirely different question pops out of my mouth: "Why are you wearing your theatricality assignment costume?"

"Oh what this boring old attire?" he questions pointing at his sparkling blue, Lady Gaga inspired jacket innocently. "It's what I usually wear, there's nothing wrong with expressing yourself – that was the whole point of the assignment after all, to celebrate being yourself no matter what other people think." At this he looks deep and searchingly into my eyes, as if the only real reason he had worn this costume was to impress this very point upon me.

"Look what do you know about my life-" I begin to snap when I'm interrupted by yet another voice.

"Well technically the outfits were my idea as I wanted to play the part of devils advocate and this red shower curtain totally nails that role on the head" a tiny Finn pipes up from my other shoulder.

"Finn I told you this isn't a competition of good cop, bad cop we're here to help Santana not dissuade her with negativity! Besides its highly doubtful Satan needs a devil's advocate anyway…"

"But in the movies there are always two sides to someone's conscience, that's just how it works" Finn interjects adamantly.

I cross my arms in annoyance and interrupt Kurt's reply, "Ok first thing - if you're actually going to help me why don't you just quit bickering like a married couple and just cut to the chase. You think you know me so well go on then, tell me what I supposed to do."

"Ask her out –

"Don't ask her out!"

I roll my eyes; I needed to hear answers not the same internal debates I battle with everyday.

"Finn how can you even say that! Can't you see that their meant for each other? I mean the only time we're spared from Santana's abuse is when Brittany is around, you know that." Kurt exclaims in exasperation.

The boy had a point. Brittany seemed to emanate sunshine strong enough to melt my icy exterior and set me free from hostility; simply happy enough in her presence to not feel the need to bring everyone else around me down in an attempt to make myself feel better.

"I just knew you had a problem with homosexuality" he finished indignantly.

"Look Kurt for the last time I don't have a problem with gays. The problem is that we're in high school where to be even slightly different is social suicide. All I'm saying is that happiness balances on a fine line between love and reputation. I got kicked off the squad remember and I was miserable despite being with Rachel, the girl I love. There is no middle ground, so is it really worth risking it all?" Finn counters.

I feel my mouth begin to move before I even realise what words I'm about to formulate - "Brittany's worth it" I declare passionately.

Kurt smiles knowingly. "See I knew we would get you there in the end, all you need now is courage." And with that they both disappeared, leaving me alone once more.

I stood still in stunned silence for a minute expecting to have to gather my thoughts when really for the first time everything seemed simple – _I loved Brittany_. There was no doubt about it. Sure I could continue torturing myself the rest of my life with 'what if's' but that seemed stupid now that Kurt had just made it painfully obvious that all I needed to do was be myself - the fierce Santana Lopez that no one said no to and certainly not two times.

With this inspiration in hand I practically bounced up the corridor with new found confidence closing the gap between me and Brittany with each bound I took but as I got close enough to see the golden flecks of the back of her hair I noticed that something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

Standing in front of her was Artie. _Standing!_

I watched him lean in and whisper something in Brittany's ear whilst grinning evilly at me over her shoulder. Then he kissed her. And just like that I was brought crashing down to earth. And just like that I reverted back to my old ways and what I did best – run away.

* * *

><p>I ran through the nearest door which just so happened to be that of the girl's toilets and walked over to the basins, splashing water on my face - whether or not in an attempt to wake myself up from this nightmare or to simply clear my spinning head I did not know. I left the water to drip down my face, blurring my vision as it travelled across my eyelids making my reflection appear abstract and distorted in the mirror before me, much resembling my current muddled state of mind.<p>

As I watched my reflection slowly become more defined and distinct it was as if my life copied this convergence towards clarity; a revelation rising within me to the sound of music…

_Every time that I look in the mirror  
><em>

_All these lines on my face getting clearer  
><em>

_The past is gone  
><em>

_It went by like dust to dawn  
><em>

_Isn't that the way  
><em>

_Everybody's got their dues in life to pay  
><em>

For the first time in ages I really take a good look at myself; the way my eyes are dull and lifeless with dark markings underneath them as if a constant reminder of unhappiness. I used to be the prettiest girl in school, not strictly because of my looks but rather because I radiated an assuredness and certainty that came from knowing my place in the world – attached to the arm of my best friend. All everyone aims for in life is to feel they have a purpose and I took mine for granted. I didn't understand things the way I do now.

_I know what nobody knows  
><em>

_Where it comes and where it goes  
><em>

_I know its everybody's sin  
><em>

_You got to lose to know how to win_

Brittany only rejected me because I pushed her away first. Now the time has come for me to fight back.

Once again I feel myself running but this time towards my desires not away from them. I skid around a corner spotting Brittany's in the distance; a black silhouette against a window pane that shone an eerie dark blue as the daylight outside drew to a close.

I hear the sound of Brittany's voice float down the corridor towards me, willing me to carry on – giving me courage.

_Sing with me, sing for the years_

_Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears_

_Sing with me, if it's just for today_

_Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away_

I'm sprinting now, my pounding footsteps matching the rhythm of the beat -_  
><em>

_Dream on, dream on, dream on  
><em>

_Dream until your dream come true_

I'm over half way there now but I feel my steps falter as a sinister ripping sound distracts me. I turn my head in the direction of the noise to see Sue Sylvester snarling as she pulls apart my Cheerio's uniform thread by thread.

"You're even more of a disgrace than Quinn was – I'd rather have a pregnant girl on the team than a _lesbian_" she spat this last word with such vehemence that I shuddered.

"See this" she says motioning to the ball of threads and ripped fabric in her hands, the mass of red looking more like blood than dye. "This is your reputation - no was" she corrects herself. "Did you seriously think that you could just parade around your sickening Sapphic romance and everyone else would just carry on as normal? _Dream on_. You've now just marked yourself as an outsider for the rest of your life, congratulations."

I flinch at her words which feel like a slap to the face, their impact causing a cascade of tears to flow from my stinging eyes which I scrunch up tight as I continue to run. My earlier words ring in my ears over and over again, a thin layer of protection against the onslaught of hatred.

_Brittany's worth it, Brittany's worth it, Brittany's worth it…_

However this inner chanting was soon drowned out by the menacing chanting that had begun as students appeared around me out of thin air.

_Dream on, dream on, dream on…_

They sneered and mocked and slowly began to encircle me; a swirling prison of red and white. Out of the crowd one particular face became clear as he stepped towards me, my eyes travelling along the sleeves of his football jacket to the raspberry slushie clutched in his hand.

There was a flicker of remorse in Karofsky's eyes but then it was gone as were the contents of the plastic cup in his hand which flew towards me.

_I ran._

I didn't open my eyes again until I had heard the slam of a door behind me and the consequent silencing of the cruel taunting in the corridor. I leant against the hard wood at my back and slid my body down it until I sat crouched on the floor, my head resting underneath the door handle. Positioned in a crumpled heap like that I must have looked weak and defeated which I was about to accept as my fate when I notice the room I was in.

It's unlike any classroom at Mckinley high, its small box shape wouldn't even fit a row of desks and adorning the wall opposite me must have been a set of at least eight windows of all different shapes and sizes - the only consistent feature being that of bars covering them. This baffled me enough to stop my constant sniffling and quivering and even more bewildering still was the pattern of what looked like charcoal drawn all up the walls and across the floor. Amidst the mass of senseless scribbles I could make out the sentence –

_What do they know about this love anyway?_

I ran my hand along the words as if trying to absorb the strength they contained, not caring about the transfer of black smudges onto my hands. As stupid as it sounds I felt as if this dingy dungeon of a room was communicating to me, trying to show me a way out of a life of entrapment, trying to lead me to _freedom_. I stand up and search the room for any other messages, about to give up when I glimpse the structured order of letters in the midst of chaos.

_You don't know how much I'd give_

_Or how much I'd take_

_Just to reach you_

_Oh to reach you_

Reading this inexplicably ignited a profound resolution within me – I wasn't about to loose Brittany for the sake of remaining popular in the eyes of people that I wont even remember in ten years time and I most definitely wasn't going to allow myself to be intimidated by hate – if anything I had just learned that love was stronger than that.

I balled my hand into fists and kicked open the door ready to make a dramatic re-entrance into the corridor in case anyone tried anything with me again, but there was no need – the corridor was deserted.

I tentatively leave the confinement and safety of the room not trusting the stillness of my surroundings. As I did so I could have sworn I glimpsed the bars on the windows disappearing but before I could be sure the door had shut and there was absolutely no way I was going back now.

I start to sprint once more, using up energy I didn't know I had left in me when I hear my name being called behind me.

I whirl around just in time to catch Brittany as our bodies collide in a crushing hug. I hold her in silence; all this time I've been longing to talk to her but now that I've finally reached her I'm left speechless. We finally pull apart, one of my hands still resting on her shoulder holding her at the perfect distance to gaze into her eyes whilst the other held her hand – not wanting to let her go again.

I go to speak but she places a finger over my lips before I have a chance to. I would've screamed in frustration were I not so preoccupied by her touch and the scrunched up piece of paper she was now holding out to me.

I take it and carefully unravel its many creases and folds not recognising what it was until I see the scrawl of my handwriting. I remember tossing this away after Mr Ryan had left after giving us all a demoralising speech about reality – I had thought that my dream wasn't realistic.

_To not have to run away from who I am. _

_To be able to accept myself and be accepted. _

"You don't have to dream anymore Santana…" Brittany softly spoke as she leaned in slowly bringing our lips closer together…

My name echoes around the halls as they begin to shift and fade away like the sands of time and I begin to feel that all too familiar weightless sensation.

_No not now!_

My hand slips out of Brittany's grip and I futilely try and grab hold of it again but before I know it I'm swirling in a blinking haze of darkness and light…


End file.
